


xibal

by mujatuan



Category: GOT7
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, it's one of those ones again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 09:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mujatuan/pseuds/mujatuan
Summary: fuck, please don't go yetsorry for cursing,don't leave, that's what i meant
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Mark Tuan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	xibal

**Author's Note:**

> happy no nut november legends  
this is almost able to pass off in the same au as spaghetti . if u consider it part 2.5 . it's mostly just how i would have wanted part 3 to be

on sunday morning, jaebeom wakes up to see mark’s body resting on top of his own.

he spares a little time to get used to the glaring sunlight coming in through the little split of the curtains. it’s almost eleven, and almost autumn. jaebeom feels a soft breeze blowing through the window into the room, welcoming the cold onto his face. other than that, it’s warm.

he looks down at mark, who’s still snoring without end, brown hair tousled up and face resting on the side right in the middle of jaebeom’s chest. jaebeom wiggles his fingers and regains feeling in his hands, only then realizing that one of them is rested on top of the small of mark’s back.

and he’s naked. they’re both naked.

jaebeom lets his hands slide down the sides of mark’s body, feeling the curve and the soft skin. he remembers the past night’s events- mark’s gentle breathing in the morning too similar to his soft moans just hours before, his hickeys blotchy and purple-red, his lips still a little swollen.

the curtains dance. jaebeom feels pleasant heat thrum through his body, pulling the sheets down so they fall right under mark’s pretty shoulder blades. jaebeom takes initiative to bring his hands up and around mark’s back, pulling him close, closer, feeling their shared warmth overwhelming his senses.

mark sniffs, snuggling into jaebeom’s body. jaebeom begins to think, is this where they were made to be? it would only make sense with how jaebeom feels only  _ perfect  _ and  _ right _ when mark is with him, curled up skin to skin.

“...beom?” mark murmurs, and jaebeom blinks away the rest of his sleep away when he sees mark stir, prop his chin up and look at him.

his eyes are glazed, half lidded, so stupidly pretty. “baby,” jaebeom whispers, and he feels over the back of mark’s neck, up into where his hair begins to tangle into itself.

“jaeb’mmie…” mark says, and he shifts upwards to kiss him sweetly. jaebeom slides his hands down mark’s back and wonders where his wings must be, white, feathered, frail. “what time is it, beom…?”

jaebeom knows why mark is asking. he doesn’t want to answer. instead, he presses soft kisses all across the bags under mark’s eyes, holds him even closer. tighter. don’t let him go. don’t ruin this moment.

“jaebeom,” mark says, but jaebeom drowns his voice out in favour of the honey dripping from mark’s tongue, and he kisses him again. 

mark doesn’t say any more. he lets jaebeom bite at his lips, he smooths his palms over jaebeom’s arms, he gives love. he gives and gives and jaebeom wants to give him everything, if he would let him. if jaebeom was a little bit less of a coward.

“the time,” mark says, once more. the end of his words begin drying up, something that is so familiar it leaves bitterness stinging jaebeom’s tongue. “please, jaebeom.”

“i don’t want to tell you,” jaebeom responds.

because he knows what the time means. even in his dreams, the clocks on the wall scream in his ear, taunt him in their soft  _ tick, tock, tick. _ “he’ll find out,” mark whispers. “he’ll know.”

jaebeom’s heart bumps. he buries his face in the crook of mark’s neck, breathes in the familiar scent that smells only like love. “i don’t care,” jaebeom breathes. “let him fuck those useless bodies. i don’t care.”

and jaebeom thinks he might feel fresh, warm tears soak into his shoulder where mark is trying to hide his face. and jaebeom curses himself, over and over again, but also curses  _ him, _ who has a face that jaebeom wants to punch so badly. he switches between the two- hating himself, hating the other guy, hating himself, and wondering exactly who is making mark cry.

and oh. mark hasn’t stopped crying. 

_ he loves me, he loves me not. _ “i’m sorry, yien,” jaebeom says. mark cries more.  _ he loves me. _ “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” his fingers begin to slip on mark’s skin.

mark mumbles something that jaebeom can’t make out. “i’m sorry. i meant- just. don’t go,” jaebeom says, and his voice cracks when he hears mark whisper words made of love layered upon love. 

“jaebeom,” mark cries, “why do you love me? i’m a fraud.”

_ no, no, no, i’m sorry. _ jaebeom closes his eyes, counts to ten, twenty, a hundred, a thousand million, but the red spots of static still surround him. “baby.”

“all i do at home is fight. all i do with you is cry.” mark laughs. “i’m a fraud.”

“fuck him,” jaebeom says. he can’t help it, hands twitching. “i love you. don’t go. i’m sorry.”

mark stops crying, and instead lets jaebeom kiss him. jaebeom, in the end, pretends he isn’t sure what he’s sorry for.

**Author's Note:**

> peace sign thank you to sik-k for a) showing your dick vein and ass on instagram, and b) being god himself
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mujatuan)   
[curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/mujatuan)   



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